Timing Read online

  “Stef.”

  I looked up at Rand.

  “You left because he wasn’t strong enough to handle your bullshit, right?”

  “What?”

  He grunted.

  “I’ll have you know that I’m a catch, no matter what you think.”

  “Is that right?”

  It was, but the way he was looking at me, daring me to say something else, I couldn’t think of anything.

  There was a long silence. “You should take a shower; you’re a mess.”

  “Excellent idea,” I said, getting up and walking by him toward the bathroom.

  “I’ll be back,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “Thanks,” I said, closing the bathroom door behind me.

  I stood under the water in the shower for a while, thinking about Rand. His questions, his demeanor… if he were bi, I would have known how to read him. If he were either bi or gay, I would have told him to put his hands on me. As it was, I was at a loss. But maybe he was like that with everyone. Charlotte had always said that I was lucky that Rand hated me because if he liked me, he would try to run my life. Maybe since he liked me now, he had some nice gay friend he wanted to set me up with and he was just trying to get a feel for me. He was asking questions to find out if I was looking for a serious relationship or if I just wanted to sleep around. And maybe that would have remotely made sense if it was anyone else but Rand. I just knew that Charlotte’s cowboy brother didn’t have any gay friends that he wanted to set me up with. I laughed as I stood under the hot, steaming water.

  Chapter 5

  I CHANGED into jeans and a T-shirt after taking a shower and sat down on the bed to wait for Rand to bring me some food. I must have dozed off again, because when I woke up, Rand was sitting up in bed beside me, on top of the quilt with me under it, flipping channels and eating a sandwich off a paper plate.

  “I thought you were getting something for me?” I asked, sitting up beside him so that we were shoulder to shoulder.

  He said something with his mouth full as he pointed with the remote control to the other side of me. On the nightstand was a plate with a sandwich and chips on it and a huge glass of iced tea. The glass was cold, so it had just arrived.

  “Thank you,” I said as I rolled toward it.

  He just grunted.

  “Remember you have to chew,” I told him as I started on my sandwich.

  He ignored me, flipped the channels some more, and then turned to look at me.

  It was my turn to talk with my mouth full. “What?”

  “Why didn’t you just call me or Char to come get you from the hospital?”

  “I didn’t want Charlotte to worry, and honestly, I didn’t even think of calling you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Probably because we’ve only been on speaking terms for, like, a minute.”

  He shrugged. “Sure, but you gotta know that in an emergency, all bets are off.”

  I just looked at him.

  Slowly, the wariness filled his eyes, and I watched his brows furrow. “Wait, you do know that if you needed me… whenever, that I would show up.”

  “What?”

  “You do know that, right?”

  “No.”

  He was genuinely surprised. “I’ve known you over ten years, Stefan. You’re my little sister’s best friend; how do you not get that you can count on me?”

  “What does my relationship with Charlotte have to do with you?”

  He stared at me, and I could tell he was trying to figure something out.

  “Are you being serious?” His eyes were darkening.

  “Sure. Me and Char have nothing to do with you and me.”

  “Is that right?”

  The way he said it, like he was hurt, I sort of wanted to take it back.

  “Screw you,” he said as he climbed off the bed.

  “Wait, why’re you pissed at me?”

  He turned and pointed at me. “It’s nice how little you think of me.”

  “Rand—”

  He turned for the door.

  “Wait.”

  But he left, slamming the door behind him. I had no idea what was going on.

  I tried to just watch TV, but the fact that I knew he was mad at me, for whatever reason, nagged at me. Normally, the man being annoyed was a good thing. Once, I would have basked in the knowledge that I had pushed his buttons, driven him to explosive anger. But it was different suddenly, so sleep was not a possibility. I headed downstairs to find him.

  There was a small group sitting around, talking, telling stories, eating, drinking, and laughing. They were back from being out, and I realized that I must have slept a lot longer than I thought. I saw Rand sitting between two guys I had met the other night, but I couldn’t recall their names. As I crossed to them, Charlotte called my name.

  I went to her, and she slipped her hand into mine as she let her head fall back to look at my face.

  “Sit here by me.”

  I let her pull me down, and after she was done grilling me about how I felt, she turned back to her bridesmaids and continued the conversation she’d been having before I showed up. She was sharing some wild and crazy moments from her past. I glanced over at Rand, but he was talking with others. I realized it had been a mistake to come downstairs. He wasn’t going to let me talk to him and was in fact doing his best to ignore me.

  Charlotte’s mom brought me some tea, which I appreciated, as the girls had started talking about the sluttiest things they had ever done. Whoever thinks that men talk dirty has never listened to a bunch of women let loose. I have a theory that because women are better with details that they can do graphic a hundred times better. When someone shook my leg, I opened my eyes and found Charlotte smiling at me.

  “Yes?”

  Five sets of lovely eyes looked at me.

  “Have you ever been tied up, Stef?”

  “You know I have,” I told the bride-to-be.

  “Were you scared?” another bridesmaid asked me.

  “No.” I smiled at her.

  “Ever been handcuffed?”

  “Yes.”

  There were squeals of delight.

  “Have you ever tied anyone up?”

  “Yes.”

  Even more giggling as they all leaned in close to me.

  “Was it fun?”

  I arched an eyebrow for them. I didn’t need to answer.

  They erupted in laughter as someone brought over a board game. I started to get up, but Charlotte insisted, since I was feeling better, that I be on her team as a silent partner. I was going to beg off when Rand took a seat on the couch beside me. He was going to play, so I stayed where I was.

  I paid attention, leaning forward, listening to categories being read and people try to come up with the answers. After the third time around, I looked up and noticed Ben staring at me. His eyes were flat, cold, and when I turned to Charlotte, she just gave me a quick shake of her head. What the hell?

  “Maybe being the caretaker of secrets is overrated, huh, Stefan?” Rand asked, leaning in close to me. “Whaddya think?”

  “Shit,” I groaned softly, face down in my hands, closing my eyes.

  His hand was on my neck, massaging, his fingers working up the back of my head into my hair. It felt so much better than good, and I let out a deep breath.

  “You should go to bed.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  I rolled my head sideways to look at him. “I had no idea that you could separate us being assholes to each other to us being friends. I’ve never had that, so I didn’t know.”

  He was studying my eyes, and after several minutes, he nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay? You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

  His hand slid back down to my shoulder and then off, as he had to roll the dice. Everyone tal
ked, Ben’s mother brought out photo albums, and there were funny, embarrassing stories to be shared. I listened, liking the banter, the family moments.

  “Stefan, honey.” Ben’s mother looked at me. “Where’s your family?”

  I turned and looked at Charlotte. She waved.

  “I don’t understand?”

  “I left home at fourteen. I never went back.”

  Her eyes were huge. “How do you leave home at fourteen?”

  I shrugged. “My folks got divorced when I was three or so, and I never saw my dad again. When I was fourteen, my mom married this guy who really couldn’t stand me, so… he threw me out, and she let him.”

  She looked horrified.

  “It was a long time ago,” I said.

  “But I—”

  “He got a job, he went to school, and he lived with a lot of different friends… he did it,” Charlotte cut her off. “And then he went to college and met me. Voilà, instant family.”

  Ben’s mom stared at me. “Have you spoken to her at all since you left?”

  “No, ma’am, she passed,” I told her. “Charlotte went with me to the funeral.”

  “Which you paid for,” Charlotte added.

  There was a long, suffocating silence. I felt like I was on display.

  “Come here and hug me,” Ben’s mom said, motioning me over to her.

  She wanted to comfort me. It was very sweet.

  I declined more offers of food as a tray of pastries was brought out along with hot chocolate. The yawning was impossible to stifle, my eyes too heavy to keep open. All the inactivity was making me lethargic. Usually at ten on a Thursday night, I was done with dinner, moving on to clubbing and screwing. There was always someone new to take home and then ask to leave before morning.

  “Scoot over.”

  They were making room for more people on the couch. Charlotte got up, and I moved to the end of the sectional, which was shadowed in the corner of the room. It was relaxing until Rand crowded up against me.

  “So,” he said, his mouth suddenly next to my ear, his breath hot down the side of my neck, “would you like me to tie you up?”

  Taken off guard, I shivered from his words and his closeness.

  “I figured,” he said as his fingers slid up under the back of my T-shirt to touch my bare skin, which was now covered in goose bumps.

  So slight a movement and so very erotic. I almost jumped up, and everyone looked at me oddly.

  “Headache,” I said, pressing a hand to my forehead before I walked out of the room.

  He caught up to me at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Stef.”

  I spun around to face him. “You’re being an ass, for whatever reason.”

  His jaw clenched as he stared at me.

  “Fuckin’ fix it,” I told him, turning around and heading upstairs without another word.

  In my room, I yanked off my T-shirt and ran water and gel through my hair before crossing to the dresser to find a new shirt. I had to get out of there, go somewhere and drink, find somebody, and get laid. If I stayed, I would just climb the walls.

  “Stefan!”

  I didn’t answer.

  Another call came through the door after more knocking, which I ignored.

  “Stefan!” he yelled for the third time.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t say ‘yeah’!” he yelled. “Open the goddamn door!”

  “Fuck you, Rand!”

  Momentary silence before his voice softened. He was right up against the door. “Lemme in, please.”

  “Screw you!”

  “Please, Stef.”

  “What the fuck is going on with you? Are you fucking with me on a bet?”

  “No.” His voice cracked, lowered. “Please just open the door.”

  “I’m goin’ out. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You are not going out… no fuckin’ way.”

  Obviously the man had lost his mind. “Are you high?” I asked as I opened the door.

  He nearly fell in on me.

  “What are you doing?” I snapped at him, shifting to take a step back to give him room.

  He grabbed hold of my bicep to still my movement. “I was an idiot. Forgive me.”

  “Which time?” I barked back, peeling his hand off me, shoving him away.

  “You’re really mad, huh?” he asked, closing and locking the door behind him.

  “Now what the fuck are you doing? I’m going out,” I announced, moving around him to reach the door.

  He stepped in front of me.

  “Move.”

  He blocked my exit, arms spread. “I need you here, Stef. Right here.”

  I knew the look. Charlotte had the same one. He wasn’t going to move without a fight.

  Throwing up my hands, I pivoted around and went back to the dresser. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s true.”

  I took deep breaths, calming as I looked for the shirt that would get me laid. “Can you please just tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  There was no sound.

  “You’re never hot and cold, you’re usually just cold.”

  “I know,” he breathed out. “I work at it.”

  Whatever the hell that meant. “Is there something going on at home? Is the ranch in trouble?”

  “No.”

  I looked back over my shoulder at him. “Then what is it?”

  He crossed the room to stand close to me. “What are you looking for?”

  “A new shirt.”

  “Why? I already told you you’re not going anywhere.”

  I exhaled sharply and turned to look at him as he leaned on the dresser. “Is the wedding bumming you out? Are you thinking about when you were married?”

  “No, but Jesus, your mind goes a lotta places, huh?”

  I squinted at him.

  “I like you worrying about me.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do.”

  “Please, Rand.” I sighed, at a loss as to what was going on. “What are you worried about?”

  “I’m not worried,” he said flatly. “I just have a problem.” His eyes were so dark, studying me.

  “You’re drivin’ me nuts. Either tell me or get the fuck out.”

  “You are a heartless creature, Stefan Joss.”

  I grunted, pulling out a tight, black short-sleeved shirt, ready to put it on. “It’s true.”

  “No, it’s not,” he said, snatching the shirt away, balling it up and throwing it on the bed.

  I tilted my head as I looked at him. “Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”

  His smile was instant, and it warmed his eyes, made them look like melting jewels. “You can do that, can you? Fix whatever ails me?”

  “I just want to help if I can.”

  “All right.”

  Pleased that he had finally agreed, I crossed back to the bed to retrieve my shirt. I didn’t expect to be shoved from behind so I went facedown onto the quilt.

  “Better.”

  I rolled over on my back to look up at him. “What the fuck?”

  “Oh.” He swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw working. “Look at your eyes.”

  My eyes… my brain stumbled. He was not playing by our rulebook, and I was at a loss as to what was going on in his head.

  “Come here,” he said, one knee on the bed as he reached for me.

  “Oh shit.” I jerked to my feet, his chin colliding with my chest as I scrambled off the bed, moving faster than I had thought I could. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  He was smiling, and I saw how big and wide it was as he moved his jaw and rubbed where I’d clipped it.

  I backed away, not taking my eyes off him. “Rand?”

  His turquoise eyes were so dark they looked wet, the smile had become very sexy, and the way his gaze raked over me from head to toe… what the hell? Had I missed that he was drunk?

  “Rand, are
you drunk?”

  He motioned me to him. “I’m so tired of fighting… just c’mere.”

  “Are you stoned?” Maybe he was stoned.

  He shook his head. “Please come here.”

  “Rand,” I said, feeling somehow naked standing there in just my jeans. “Do you have any idea what you’re do—”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  But I didn’t think he did. “Rand, I think you need to sit down.”

  “That ain’t what I need,” he husked.

  “Are you serious?” I blurted as he rose off the bed and started toward me.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know about anything right now. All I do know is that I need you so I won’t feel like this no more. I’m so sick of feeling like this.”

  Wait. What? “I’m sorry, what?”

  He laughed softly. “You heard me.”

  “No, I don’t think I did,” I assured him. “See, because for starters, you’re straight.”

  He nodded. “I am straight, with one seemingly very large exception.”

  I shook my head. “Listen, if you need to experiment, you—”

  “It’s not an experiment.”

  “That’s bullshit. How could it be anything else but—”

  “’Cause of how I feel.”

  He looked absolutely miserable and happy all at the same time. What in the world was going on? How could I have missed all this?

  “Ask me how I feel.”

  “I… okay. How do you feel?”

  “Sick,” he confessed, reaching for me, lifting his hand to place his palm over my heart. “Every time I met some new guy you were fuckin’, every time I saw you leave with somebody as I came in, every time… it killed me. I remember at Charlotte’s graduation party, you were dancing with your boyfriend, some guy you dumped like a month later, but that night…. I was so fuckin’ jealous of him ’cause you were all over him and it made me sick. It’s been killing me since that first day when I walked in and you looked up at me and it was like I got hit by lightning.”

  I was stunned. What could I say? I thought he hated me. I had always thought he hated me.

  “The way you smiled that day was… but I was scared, so scared, and you were young, Stef, but so was I,” he flared, irritated at me. “You forget that I was young too.”